


Worthy of Awe

by alicat54c



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 19:50:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4492470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicat54c/pseuds/alicat54c
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five religions unintentionally started by the Winchesters.</p><p>1. Saint Winchester Who Art in Purgatory<br/>2. Hail Dean Upon the Rack<br/>3. Cult of the Boy King<br/>4. Dear Father<br/>5. Church of Apple Pie</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Saint Winchester

**Author's Note:**

> These guys have been to every possible afterlife, and that is never important? They never tell anyone about how heaven sucks or purgatory is a literal hunger games battle royal?
> 
> So I wrote this.
> 
> #4 got sad really fast, so be prepared for feels.

One: 

Our Saint Winchester Who Art in Purgatory

...

 

When you die, the monsters whisper, you go to mother Eve’s twilight forest of purgatory. There you can fight and rip to satiate the cloying instincts which remained unheeded on earth.

However, if while slaughtering other monsters, you find a human, stay your hand, for that human is Saint Winchester.

Saint Winchester, the man who mother Eve herself blessed with a bite, who sends the most violent of creatures to paradise with a swing of his blade. 

He was once a vampire like us, the clans whisper. But he was disgusted at the depravity of his kin, that he slaughtered the entire nest to teach them a lesson. It is only through the generosity of his friend Lafitte that he has shown us mercy.

Yes, Benny Lafitte, the pirate, who threw himself upon the mercy of the Saint for vengeance against his maker. Pray well, little vamps, and treat your kin with kindness, lest his mercy brings them back to haunt you. For there is no crime in his eyes worse than abandoning family.

Saint Winchester, whom demons fear and angels cower, the man who rose from hell out for blood and descended from heaven unimpressed.

He drove the Leviathan back to purgatory, howl the wolves, for they were glutenous and greedy while on earth. Be still your hunger, cubs, and curb your fangs, lest the Saint sends you to the eternal hunt before your time. Stay now with the pack and sharpen your claws against what will come; be like Fitzgerald.

Yes, Garth Fitzgerald, whose pack wears silver about their necks, who the Saint found worthy to teach those left on earth. The wolf who guards his cubs and tests his strength against ghosts and rugarus, readying his family with knowledge for the fight to come.

Saint Winchester, the man whose path you never wish to cross, who stalks the earth and purgatory, ready to send the unworthy to the next plane.

He hunts down those who prey upon the weak humans, for there is no sport in killing sheep. Guard your step on earth.

He sends those who approach too weak for penance from paradise. Watch your back in purgatory.

For he sent mother Eve to the next step of existence, and he too shall one day come for you.


	2. Hail Dean Upon the Rack

Two:

Hail Dean Upon the Rack

...

There is a room in hell left untouched. It’s full of all the normal things you would imagine: blood, screams, nightmares; and a few you would not: burns left by an angel’s grace, a name carved onto the wall, and a shrine.

The shrine at first was a simple construction of rusted knives and barbed wire; tokens from those who had been tortured by Allistair, and were glad at the demon’s demise. Then severed limbs and hellhound teeth were added, as those tortured by the room’s owner wished to show off their learned prowess.

Bowls of ashes, scraped together from slaughtered angel wings, sprinkled through the construction, from beings who wished to curry favor from the one who brought low the greatest of archangels back to the pit.

Tiny notes fluttered like cookie fortunes in the dust, small requests for when the occupant inevitably returned to his post. For how could he not, with all that he has done?

Starting an angel war, stoping the Leviathan, stoping the gates of hell from being closed; what being had done more for demon kind than he?

He would not turn for torture, he took the mark of Cain and laughed, he stabbed the last knight of hell through the neck; it couldn’t hurt to pray to such a dark twisted being.

And maybe, just maybe, he might decide the old king of hell is in need of a replacement


	3. Cult of the Boy King

Three:

Cult of the Boy King

...

Since the day Sam was born, the low church of Lucifer built an ever changing character of him to place beside their lord and maker.

After Sam threw the devil back into the cage, the pictures switched positions, with the chubby baby human’s visage taking the place of honor.

The newly instated satanic nun, Bela, was forced to mop up her own entrails, when she, literally, busted a gut laughing.


	4. Dear Father

Four:

Dear Father

...

The Amazon children whisper, after the lights to the clan’s bootcamp had been turned out.

Our sister Emma met her father, they hiss, she would dream of his face and kind voice.

She was certain he would love her; would want her. Fathers are meant to love their daughters, to never give them up. They would not leave their daughters in a place like this. Not like our mothers.

She never came back, when she was sent out to hunt him. Surely that means what the humans say is true? 

Yes, he must have swept her away- away from the clans and duty to the goddess.

We should only wish our fathers will be so kind to us.


	5. Church of Apple Pie

Five:

Church of Apple Pie

...

There is a place where angels go to pray.

It is a little church on earth, neither old nor spectacularly grand, with white painted walls and stained glass windows. The images within are not of God, or at least not of the God the angels call Father.

The light shines through the glass of the church’s main entrance, showing a rumpled dark haired man, which many describe as some kind of tax accountant in a trench coat.

However, should one venture into the holy of holies behind the altar, the trench coated figure would not make an appearance.

In his place are two men, tall even in their characters of glass, and a black vehicle, whose roar could be heard echoing in the silence as it twines over highways and hills.

It is here that the angels ponder.

Words whisper through their feathers, unspoken pleas for revelation, from the beings which now appeared to drive the fate of the world.

One of these angels, who called herself Rebecca, contemplated the images of humanity. One stuck out most vividly to her, so she decided to research further.

While investigating the strange phenomom of apple pie, Rebecca was struck by a sudden understanding of the vividness of humanity.

She swore then and there, around another mouthful of pastry and ice cream, to enjoy her time on earth as penance for her heavenly family’s arrogance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm open to prompts for continuing this, if anyone has one.


End file.
